NevilleHermione shorts
by Darth Gojira
Summary: My first series of Harry Potter shorts. This one is a collection of short fics and scenes involving Neville Longbottom and Hermione Granger. Contains stories rated from G to R
1. Wake Up rated G

"I'm sorry, Mr. Longbottom, Ms Granger is still comatose. Alive, but comatose" the nurse shook her head, "Your nose has not yet fully recovered, and it would be wise for you to lie down"

"But when is she going to wake up?" Neville pleaded, desperate. For hours he had kept his vigil next to his comatose friend, begging for her to wake up. He had been pleading since the moment Dolohov's spell struck her down. The blinding pain when his nose broke seemed to fade when he could see her still form. Throughout all the horrors of that night, when he saw his friends fall one by one, even staring into the eyes of Bellatrix Lestrange, his worst fear hung over his head.

He was only fifteen,, but he felt very old. Very, very old. A war had begun, and one of the people he cherished most of the world was lying very, very still. She had been injured before; petrified, exposed to dementors, abducted by merpeople, but through it all she knew what she was doing. Neville reached out to grasp her still hand. She was always the one who knew what she was doing. Now, where would he turn to? She was the candle that led him through the dungeon, and it seemed as if though it had been extinguished.

Harry was his other guide when Hermione fell, but he knew Harry was with Dumbledore, and had much weightier issues to deal with. Ron and Ginny were by him, waiting desperately for their friend to awake, but they didn't have what Hermione had. Neville himself wasn't sure what Hermione had in the first place. Wisdom? Beauty? Intelligence? Leadership? And yet, there was something else she had. Something that had made Neville fall in love with her.

He loved her. He really didn't think of it. It just came naturally. He loved her, and that was it. He had never told Hermione that for some reason. She was in love with Ron, after all, and he didn't stand much of a chance. But he still loved her, regardless of whether it would be returned. Neville wished he could just tell that once she woke up, but he knew he'd just choke and scurry away again.

He still held her hand. She looked peaceful, sleeping quietly. When she was petrified, she was frozen with an expression of shock that send chills down his spine. But here, she was as if she was sleeping, breathing ever so slightly. He remembered when she first fell, and how he was so determined to reach her Dolohov broke his nose with a kick he never saw coming. A broken nose was nothing, but Hermione was irreplaceable.

She stirred slightly, startling him. Neville leaned in, desperately hoping she was coming to.

"Hermione? Please wake up?" he whispered.

Ron and Ginny joined him in watching, but she showed no sign of response.

"She has to wake up soon. She's got to" Ron murmured

The nurse chose that moment to rush in.

"Miss Weasley! Mr. Longbottom! Lay down! You still have one more day before you are allowed to leave. Mr. Weasley, get out of here!" she barked territorially

"But-but-" Ron protested, but she glared at him in a way that both Ron's mum and Neville's gran would be proud, and all the teenagers complied.

Ginny had it worst. She had a broken leg that had almost healed, but it prevented her from getting back up.

"What about Ginny? Mum told me to stay with her" Ron looked for any excuse

"I don't care. You've used up all your time. Now get out!"

Ron admitted defeat as the indomitable medical worker, and slunk away without a single word more, the nurse stalking on his heels.

Neville wasn't going to give up, though. When the nurse finally left, he managed to slip out of bed and walk over to Hermione's.

"Hermione, please come back. I love you. You can't die. You have to get back" he pleaded quietly.

This time there was a response.

"Neville…." She murmured. Her eyes were still closed, but her eyebrows narrowed and she shifted her weight.

"I'm here"

"That you?....."

"Yes. You're going to be alright"

"Where?" Her voice was barely audible

"You're in the hospital. You're safe"

"Harry…Ron…."

"They're all right. Ginny and Luna are fine, too"

"Prophecy?"

"I broke it"

"Idiot" She broke into a smile

"I love you" Neville couldn't help himself.

"Love you, too"

There was a long silence. Neville felt very warm and very cold at the same time.

"Hermione?"

"Hmm?"

"You gonna be all right?"

"I need some rest"

"Right, I'll go back to bed"

"Neville?"

"Huh?"

"Kiss me"

Shocked but not stopping to think, he obliged, leaning down to kiss her. Clumsily

"Thank you" She paused, "You need practice"

"That was my first"

"We'll practice soon enough. Get some rest. I'm going to take a nap right now"

"Get better" He gave her hand one last squeeze. Hermione squeezed his hand right back.


	2. Only Hermione rated R

In Neville's opinion, Hermione could do things that no one else could. Only Hermione could tell Neville that he's working not hard enough in the morning and working too hard in the afternoon. Only Hermione could try to charm the sweat off his body. Only Hermione's eyebrows could raise and furrow like a bird in flight, but still remain perfectly serious. Only Hermione could nag him and all he'd do is love her more.

Only Hermione could tear his attention away from the garden he'd spent the last year reorganizing and remaking. Only Hermione could transfigure two empty flowerpots into trees and conjure up a hammock between them. Only Hermione could be six inches shorter and fifty pounds lighter and still manhandle him into a hammock. Only Hermione had a smile that made Neville's concerns about his garden fade away in an instant

Only Hermione's form could feel so good resting on top of his body as she rolled so that her back pressed down on his front. Only Hermione's bum could press him just enough to drive him mad and not enough for him to take her right there. Only Hermione's hair could smell sweeter than the flowers, and felt bloody fantastic against his skin. Only Hermione's hands could gather up his to place them on her stomach with both firmness and gentleness. Only Hermione's breasts could feel so perfect in his hand, as if they had been made for it. Only Hermione's gasp of surprise could turn into a moan of pleasure.

Only Hermione could wait a full minute of this, just whimpering and shifting about until she finally turned around. Only Hermione could suddenly shove him out of the hammock and onto the grass and make it feel like a blessing. And only Hermione could leap on top of him and rip his clothes off and take him and make him give voice to his love for her.


	3. Flowers

A herbologist should be wise, prompt, and decisive, Professor Sprout once told Neville. He had always hoped that the terms were flexible, but his grades had always turned out fine for that class. Still, Neville wished he could have already chosen the flowers already. He knew Hermione had a meeting that day, but he needed to get them ready before dinner. He didn't want to have taken off work early for nothing.

As he searched his green house, he noticed that the Easter Lilies were in full bloom, but he wanted something that meant something special. Daffodil? No, he had already given them to her when he had first proposed to her. That also counted out the morning glory. He had a wide variety of chrysanthemums, but he had given a bouquet of them to Cho for her wedding, and he was sure it would come across badly. He was relieved that Hermione was so generous and pleasant to Cho and her marriage to the muggle doctor from New York named Jerry Gale. He had long ago forgiven Cho, and was glad that even Ron and Ginny had as well.

Here was something: Edelwiess. On their wedding, Viktor Krum had told him that Hermione was fond of them. Neville knew Viktor was a good sport and surprisingly perceptive, and he made sure to collect them when he passed them by. She had honored the Slytherins that had fallen for the effort with the symbol of the Germans that opposed the Nazis: Edelwiess.

The narcissus was right out. It was the flower Harry had insisted he grow for the Malfoys. Unlike Harry, he had never forgiven them for what they did and he knew Hermione hated the family even more than he did. When they had seen Draco attacked by a mob in Hogsmeade, she had simply sent an owl to St. Mungos and walked off. To tell the truth, he had hoped Draco would have died in the assault. The wretch was at the end of his line and not worth the effort.

The lotus pond had been installed just after gran died, and he felt like it was for her and not his wife, but his gran had always liked Hermione, and he felt he needed something to symbolize that, too. Had gran died so soon? True, she had died exposing the Malfoys as still practicing dark magic and the family had been condemned to Azkaban for it, but the fact that she could have died was a shock in and of itself. He had hoped she would lived to see great grandchildren, to see him become a professor, and to finally be as proud of him she could possibly be.

Likewise, he took a lupin in remembrance of his old professor. Remus Lupin had been the first person he had told about his feelings for Hermione, and he had seemed to encourage him. The war left a widow and a child mourning him, but also all his old friends and family. He remembered comforting Harry as he wept over the last close friend of his family. Dean's eulogy had made him cry that day.

Of course, when it came to memories, he had to give her a blossom from his old Mimbletus, still alive and twitching like a drugged-up Screechsnap. After three years after receiving it, it had finally been coaxed into blooming and it was still flowering with the proper amount of steamed and shaken treacle.

Finally, bluebells. Blue was Hermione's favorite color, and his successful hybrid of the Scottish and common varieties (despite their complete lack of relation) was his greatest triumph and what had earned him a grant from the Ministry's Division of Horticulture. She had worn blue at the Yule Ball, at Ron's wedding, at her own wedding, and at her parent's 40th anniversary.

He gave the bouquet a whiff. Beautiful. He could never make a flower or even an entire botanical garden that smelled and looked and felt like Hermione, let alone with her intelligence and passion, none with that standard, but he was damned if he didn't try.

Hermione Granger had had a good day. Arthur Weasley had reported a decrease in cursed items for the first time after the war, Percy had passed an education bill that would make Neville's life easier when he finally got his certificate, and she had been commended for her successful negotiation with the merfolk's chieftans to formally classify them as beings.

Still, she had to admit to being exhausted. Today was special for some reason, but she didn't know why. She wracked her mind, but it was like trying to find a slip of paper within pages of a book wedged into the back shelf of a library containing everything ever publish. She hated the unknown, and she was determined to conquer whatever ignorance she had. Neville was a fascinating project for her, and he was far more beautiful and rewarding than any book she had picked up. Did the forgotten event of that day have anything to do with him? He was the most important thing in her life aside from her dreams, but her family and other friends were important too, and perhaps it was Ginny's birthday or her parent's anniversary. It wasn't Neville's or Harry's (she remembered their joint birthday party just a few weeks back). She remembered that day very well. It wasn't either of her parent's birthdays or her grandparent's birthdays, or else it would have coincided with the July trip to Provence the other month. She just couldn't put her finger on it.

Her husband greeted her in the living room as she entered with a warm embrace. In his arms, she felt as if nothing could harm her, nothing could break her spirit; nothing could stop her loving him.

"Oh Neville, I'm so glad to see you"

"Hermione? Love?" He said in the tone of voice he usually used when he shyly brought up something she had forgotten and was about to annoy her.

"What is it?" She disengaged, curious

Neville presented her with the bouquet. Suddenly, what Hermione had forgotten became clear, and she wasn't sure whether to be embarrassed or impressed.

"Happy anniversary. Remember when we first met on the Hogwarts Express?"

"How could I forget?" Embarrassment and admiration gave in to love, and she returned to their previous embrace, only tighter and more passionate.

"You just did"

"Shut up"

"I love you" They kissed with all their passion, never lost, not separating even as they descended to the couch.


	4. Working Too Hard rated R

Working too hard

"Hermione, are you going to bed? The reception was three hours ago"

"Just let me finish this essay" Hermione Granger didn't look up at her lover, absorbed in her work. She was still dressed in her evening gown, having left Harry and Cho's wedding reception only to get straight to work.

"Harry's not going to be happy when I tell him about this" Neville Longbottom teased as he changed in the other room of their flat.

"Harry only has to write reports for the Prophet. I'm trying to get the ministry's attention about the abuse cases I've documented. This is serious business, Neville"

He smiled. He had always admired her diligence and tenacity. Just watching her write had always made him feel better. Maybe it was just this that had made him fall in love with her. She cared so much about people, and was willing to put her other obligations and interests aside just to make sure the right thing was done.

"Love, you don't have to work tomorrow. You can do it then"

"Tomorrow's when I'm going to meet with Billy Blin"

"Free house elves are just as polite as the ordinary ones and you know that. You need sleep. Ron would never have you working after a party"

"That's why I'm with you and not him" she said with a haughty sniff, then moved back to working.

Neville realized he needed to take action. She had taught him all about taking the initiative, about doing the right thing. She had given him courage and power that he could never have found himself.

She had also taught him patience, too. Better take it slowly. First, he waited until it looked like she had assumed he would have just gone to bed. It was a bit underhanded of him, but he wanted her to feel better, not just let her waste herself on her anxieties.

When it looked like she had completely forgotten he was in the room, he slowly walked to behind her chair. Again, she showed no reaction. He was tempted just to let her finish, but he knew all about the length of her discourses. Neville wasn't going to let her go on this time.

His first kiss was planted softly on her neck, on a spot he knew was sensitive. Hermione shuddered but managed to continue writing. The kiss turned into a suckle, finished off with a gentle nip to her skin. She moaned and stopped writing. Neville could hear her breathe hard as she struggled to remain control. Time to amp it up. His mouth ran up to her elegant ear, teeth and tongue delicately teasing her earlobe, dancing around the small gold earring shaped like a raindrop.

Not waiting for the reaction, he moved down to her bare shoulder, kisses moving up to the neck, then down to the arm.

"Oh, Neville…." She moaned softly into his ear, nipping it in an attempt to reciprocate.

As much has he enjoyed her mouth's wonderful work, the boy wizard was not going to let her. She would just take control of him and get him to expend his own efforts and just forget about her. Instead, he upped the stakes.

The kisses moved down from the shoulder down the slope of her left breast. The tongue and teeth returned to join the lips in the assault on her sensitive skin, and he could feel her chest heave, skin flush and breasts swell every so slightly. He ran his tongue along the line of her dress, while his right hand moved down from it was caressing her hair and face to down to cup the other breast.

He was badly tempted to return to her mouth and let his hands wander to her knickers, but his position was awkward, and his original plan of just taking her on the table was completely impractical. Hermione taught him the value of being practical.

She also taught him exactly how and where she liked to be touched. He always loved his part, he thought as he slowly slid the dress down. Seeing her exposed always felt the same since he had first undressed her. Her nipples were always eager and ready. As his mouth worked at the exposed nub, her hands, as they always did at this point, pressed him against her. He could feel Hermione's heart pound underneath the heaving chest and warm skin, counterpointing her gasps and incoherent cries. He Neville didn't know much about music, but this was his favorite sound.

He continued sucking and licking, expecting her to either push him away or push him down to finish her. Neither happened. Neville's dark but wide eyes moved up to meet Hermione's face. He hoped she wasn't offended or bored. He was trying to make her feel, well, less serious, and tell her that love comes before work.

She was smiling at him, that lovely Hermione smile that told him she knew exactly what was going on and what to do about it.

"What?" He had to pull away to ask her.

"I love what you're doing, Neville. I don't want you to stop. We can have sex tomorrow. After I finish the essay" The shaggy-haired muggleborn grinned down at him

"I love you Hermione" Neville said with a responding grin and moved up to claim her hungry lips. He could wait a little longer. He had waited years to just tell her he loved him, and her response had made all his dreams come true.

"I love you, too. Now get back to what you were doing. I finally got you to work, and now do it" Hermione had somehow taken control again, but as long as she still loved him, Neville didn't care. He breathed in her scent as she entwined her fingers in his hair and pushed him back down.

Obediently, Neville moved his mouth back to Hermione's perfect chest. Did she just trick him? It didn't matter. This was the kind of work he loved. Hermione would tell him if he worked too hard….wouldn't she?


	5. What Day Is It? Rated G

The quiet little house in Barnesley slowly dried off from the last whips of the summer rains. It was tranquil once more, and the rainbows did not go unnoticed by the inhabitants of the house. Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom would always sit on the porch this time of morning on Sundays. Today was no different, despite Hermione Longbottom's concerns.

"And did you remember to wrap Harry's birthday present?" She asked.

"I did it last week", Neville Longbottom explained.

"And what about the cake?"

"It's an ice-cream cake. It's in Ron's fridge."

"Things in Ron's fridge don't last for than a day" she pointed out.

Neville laughed as he turned from the rose bush he was inspecting.

"That's why he bought it last night."

"And what about the other cake?" Hermione persisted.

"What other cake?"

"Today's not only Harry's birthday, you know."

"It's not your parents' birthday, Hermione. Nor my parent's. Yours' won't be for another few weeks. It's not Seamus or Parvati's or any of the Weasleys'. It's not Luna's or Dean's or gran's or anyone at work's or Sprout's or any other teacher in the school. It's nobody's anniversary, it's nobody's death day, and our engagement was two months ago," Neville counted on his fingers, making sure Hermione could not accuse him of forgetting someone important.

"It's someone important to me. Someone I love." It was Hermione's turn to smile.

"Viktor's is in January and Ron's was back in spring. Besides, you'd tell me if you were pregnant….right?"

"Of course I would. But the person I'm talking about saved my life, saved the world, and made me the happiest woman in England", Hermione teased.

Neville just looked puzzled.

"We're going to Harry's party tonight. I thought you brought it up. I'd never forget Harry's birthday"

"How about your birthday?" Hermione laughed.

"Oh". Neville realized exactly what day it was as Hermione pulled him back to the porch steps and kissed him deeply.

"Wouldn't be the first time I've forgotten something like that", he said with a blush after the kiss finally finished.

"And it's not the first time I've had to remind you. But that's why we're going to get married"

"And what you get out of it?"

"You. Happy birthday, love"

This time, they didn't break off the kiss for a very long time.


	6. Poison rated G

5 Times Hermione Granger saved Neville Longbottom's life.

I.

It was in potions class. The day outside was bright and sunny, at least by Scottish standards, but Severus Snape brought his own chilling fog. With Snape, the climate was always the same; putrid with a chance of bitterness and hate. Every time he passed a student, he seemed to project a sense of despair and hopelessness; a dementor that a Patronus charm could not neutralize. The first years in the previous gave Harry Potter and the other Gryffindors looks of terror as they filed out quickly.

This time the potion was complex anti-venom, meant to neutralize the strongest toxins when mixed properly. The venom in this case was concentrated taipan venom, which Snape demonstrated on a rat he conjured up. Ron Weasley and Harry looked at each other knowingly, but directly behind them Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown whimpered and covered their eyes. At his seat, Neville Longbottom could make out each twitch of the dying rodent as it writhed and gasped violently before becoming very, very still. It was as if Snape was deliberately killing something just to intimidate the students. Even the Slytherins looked at their head of house with unabashed terror.

He drawled out the ingredients. Bezoar gravel. Gryphon claw sheath filings. Wolfsbane shredded by a silver knife. Frankincense soaked in vinegar and then powdered. Unicorn horn fiber dissolved by acid. Of course, as Snape would say, not in that order you idiot. And, of course, students were to get to the infirmary by themselves. Snape would not lift a long, bony finger. And, of course, each student had to work by themselves.

As usual, Neville found himself trembling and messing up each and every ingredient. The gravel wouldn't dissolve. The filings got stuck on the sides of the cauldron. The wolfsbane came out in irregular shreds. The Frankincense was entirely dissolved in the vinegar. The Unicorn fiber was still stringy. Nothing went right. He was tempted to ask Hermione, who was sitting next to him, but considering that she seemed to have trouble herself judging by the way she kept checking and re-checking the instructions. Neville realized a bit too late that he should have thought of that before.

Before Neville could ask for new ingredients, Snape made an announcement that condemned him to a horrible death.

"Time's up. Everyone must taste their potion now. Failure to do so will result in a failing grade for today's lesson"

Neville stared into the cauldron, which was still shifting colors from an electric pink to a sickly shade of maroon and then to lively tangerine in a matter of seconds. He just hoped Trevor would find a happy home. Gran would be very disappointed in him, but again, that would be usual for him. Still, he had hoped to die a bit less ignominiously and after he had told his parents one last goodbye. It didn't matter anyway. It's not as if they would understand.

Hermione saying his name broke him from his thoughts. He turned towards her, still pale from fear.

"Neville, put this in your mouth. Don't swallow it. It'll neutralize the poison. Quickly" She whispered quickly as Hermione shoved a foul-tasting stone into his mouth. She looked around, hoping Snape wasn't paying attention. Fortunately, it seems as if he was busy reading a ragged-edged book on the Dark Arts. Just in time Hermione turned back to her rather more successful cauldron, as Snape finally put down his book and stood up.

"Time's up. Mix the potion with the vials of poison on your right and drink it. I will be watching to make sure every mixture is ingested with the potion", Snape made sure each and every word came out as clear as possible, and at the last word, looked pointedly at Neville. Neville in turn looked at Hermione, finally realizing exactly what she was risking. If Snape found out, both of them would lose whatever points Snape allowed them, and, if the potions master had his way, they would be expelled from the school.

After mouthing a prayer, Neville poured the venom into the cauldron. Even the trickling noise the liquid made was sickening and menacing as it poured into the cauldron and released a shower of multicolored dust that blew into his face. Coughing and choking on the stone before managing to get the dust out of his eyes and the stone back into his cheeks, Neville finally drank the noxious potion.

Suddenly, his mind turned into a dream that usually was preceded by his gran's chive-and-honey muffins. The retching of the other students was replaced by the dull roar of the blood inside his head (according to Hermione, this was the strange noise that he heard whenever he held a seashell to his ear). The taste of the stone was mixed with the acidic, rancid, bitter taste of venom and botched potion. The sight of the ominous cauldron blurred; the bright colored clouds turned into even brighter streams like clouds carried by a hurricane.

He felt as if the dungeon has begun to spin, as if he had been hit by a jinx. He felt vomit coming up, but he fought it with all his might. Usually, he would have already began to throw up, but his loyalty to Hermione and his defiance of Snape finally made him swallow his bile (and the uncanny facsimile he had made in the past hour). The spinning sensation turned from his mouth to his stomach.

And then, just as violently as it began, the sensation subsided. The numbness melted away. The room slowly stabilized as he fell against the desk. His vision turned from the strange vision to a slowly more transparent haze with gold flecks dancing behind. He blinked away the flecks as the haze gradually coalesced.

With a cough, Neville spat out the bezoar, pocketed it, and looked around. Thankfully, Snape was too busy reading a black-bound book with yellowed pages, probably about poison or murder or something else Snape-related. When the potions master suddenly looked right at him, he almost panicked, but it was in reaction to Dean Thomas standing up.

"SorrysirIhavetogototheboy'sbathroomI'llberightback" he managed to blurt out before tearing out the classroom at full speed.

"Ten points from Gryffindor!" Snape called after him, then turned back to the class, "Anyone else need to leave the dungeon?"

"Nogh sighr!" Seamus managed to burble out as he quickly sat back down, drool coming in a torrent out of his mouth.

"You will clean that up after hours, Finnegan" Snape was not amused. A quick silence followed, no student daring to look at the professor or make a sound lest attracting his attention.

The silence was broken by a hacking cough to Neville's right.

"Hermione, are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Neville. Phew! It's just that it's a bit spicy now" she assured him, then coughed again.

Phew. Neville sighed in relief. Hermione risked her life (at the hands of both the poison and at the hands of their teacher), giving him that Bezoar. He would hate to have her suffer for his own problems.

"How did yours go, Neville?"

"Oh, I felt a little dizzy, but I'm okay now"

"Good. Harry, are you sure you don't need to go to the Hospital Wing?" She turned to her other companion.

"I'm fine. I just need to brush my teeth, that's all" Harry dismissed his now-blackened teeth, looking like he had either bit into a piece of coal or had pigged out of licorice. "It's just a stain".

"Just keep your mouth shut until the class is over, Harry" Ron quipped, ignoring his green skin.

"Same goes for you Weasley! Might as well put a bag over your head; you look ridiculous!" A high pitched voice from the other side of the class taunted with a shrill laugh.

All eyes were on Draco Malfoy, who suddenly covered his mouth.

"Is that my voice?" he squeaked, "Is that...my voice?"

The entire class burst into laughter.

"It's not funny! Shut up!" the suddenly squeaky Slytherin yelled.

They laughed even harder. Seamus no longer cared about the drool, spittle flying. Harry's blackened teeth gleamed in an open grin. Even Hermione cracked a smile.

"Serves him right" She said before turning back to the desk and beginning to write.

"SILENCE! 50 points from Gryffindor for this disruption!" Snape roared at the crowd, suddenly silencing them but for a few giggles.

"And 20 points from Slytherin for utter incompetence" he turned to glare at Malfoy, who almost stood up to speak up but at the last second stopped and sat back down.

The rest of Potions wrapped up soon afterward. The tittering and giggling at the results of the potions pretty much stopped any more lessons from getting through, and Snape ended the class early in sheer frustration. The potions master stalked out in a black rage before the students could collect themselves.

"So I'm going to go clean my teeth in the boy's bathroom" Harry said as the Gryffindors filed out with wide grins and barely stifled chuckles, "Amazing how no one got killed. What happened to you Neville? I didn't catch it"

"Oh, I just felt a little dizzy, that's all. For a moment there I was going to die, but somehow I made it." He glanced sideways at Hermione, who returned the look with a wink.

"You lucked out. I have to go to the hospital wing before Professor Sprout plants me." Ron quipped.

"You kind of look like a reverse carrot, Ron."

"Oh, go brush your teeth"

"I think the green goes well with your hair and your eyes"

"Really?" Ron looked hopefully at Hermione.

"Yeah, it's an improvement from the way you usually look" she teased.

Ron rolled his eyes as he followed Harry down the corridor. Neville, with the coast clear, put his hand on Hermione's shoulder to get her attention.

"It was the least I could do."

"Hermione, you saved my life. I don't know what to say"

"I did not" she protested, "Harry and Ron are just as bad, and all they got were little coloring charms"

"They've always been better than me at potions. I actually almost died. I could taste the venom itself. Face it, Hermione, I owe you my life"

"Yes, and how will that make you treat me differently?"

"Oh" Neville stopped, "I never thought of that"

"You're in my debt whether you like it or not" she taunted him

"I didn't say I had a problem with that"

The End


End file.
